


It's Rotten Work

by Herbgerblin (TheEverlastingRandom)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, I'm really just playing around in this space come and join me, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Vampires, but not that slow, death mentions, i heard you kids liked romance™, no main character deaths we bring back deceased characters like men, nsfw implied, some minor body horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-07 13:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21459172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEverlastingRandom/pseuds/Herbgerblin
Summary: Vampires are just common enough that no one treats them like folk tales. There is, of course, an immeasurable amount of fear levied against them. But research into integrating them into greater society had increased over the past two decades. Barry has worked earnestly, trying to make his haphazard world a safer place for all of its inhabitants. He appreciated the unorthodox company currently residing on his roof. As long as they didn’t try to break into his home one night and drain him dry, he was perfectly content with letting them hang out there. One of them, particular, he found to be rather lovely.
Relationships: Barry Bluejeans/Lup, Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 273





	1. Not to Me

Barry was keenly aware of the fact that there were two vampires hanging out on his roof.

The house he lived in was old and large. It resided in an even older part of town, near a languid river. At first, he believed the voices he heard late at night to be rowdy neighbors, or drunkards stumbling down the street. But most of the people who populated this area were elderly folks who just wanted to live out the rest of their days with a peaceful riverside view. And also, the voices were coming from up above, not down below.

He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but they were definitely there. And always saying things in a friendly, casual manner. They sounded similar, but Barry was certain that there was a conversation going on between two people. He swore there was laughter sometimes, followed by stretches of comfortable silence. He never intervened, only listened. They helped him stay awake as he worked. They made his work seem less lonely. 

The voices were always gone by morning, and were never heard during the day. Which is what led Barry to believe that vampires were the cause.

Vampires were _ just _ common enough that no one treated them like folk tales. There was, of course, an immeasurable amount of fear levied against them. Newspaper headlines were filled with black lists of folks who may or may not be of the undead. Pitchfork shops were all the rage in the bigger cities. But there was, too, a growing community of intellectuals who were invested in researching them. Research for integrating them into greater society had increased over the past few decades. Legislation actions had been set in motion for the good part of a year now.

Barry worked earnestly, going out at first light to find remnants of unfortunate undead who couldn’t hide fast enough and were burnt to ashes. Day trips to university conferences, to talk down colleagues more mad and less ethical than he into taking whatever vampire they had caught in a blood rage and experimenting on it. Coming home and staying up late to catalogue his findings for speeches or news articles. Trying to make his haphazard world a safer place for all of its inhabitants. He had pursued this career for the better part of forty years.

So Barry appreciated the unorthodox company on his roof. As long as they didn’t try to break into his home one night and drain him dry, he was perfectly content with letting them hang out there. It put a spark of hope into the work he did. 

* * *

Barry felt like he was being watched. He noticed after a month or two, with the voices being a comfortable presence in his life. He would come home late in the evening, bringing home dinner from a restaurant down the street—because he thought himself too busy to cook a decent meal. And somewhere between decent human hours and ridiculously late o’ clock, he could feel eyes watching him.

He’d pause in writing to occasionally glance out the windows of his house (the intruding presence never seemed to come from within it.) But whatever it was that seemed to have taken an interest in him, would flee just as effortlessly as it would appear. A few days went by, when he’d sworn he’d caught a face in the reflection of a mirror. (He had a wide collection of mirrors around his house, all backed with a variety of reflective surfaces. It was a strange talking point whenever guests came over, but he didn’t often have guests.) Yet the mystery of the peering eyes went unsolved for a while, and he learned to accept it along with the vampires on his roof.

* * *

It isn’t until one very late, rainy night, when he heard a loud knock on his window.

He turned in his chair, expecting to see a ball of hail, and instead saw a stark, beautiful face staring at him through the glass. His heart immediately leapt into his throat. Because—_ fuck _, son. Nobody who lives in a two story house, with the window side facing a river, expects to see a person looking at them through their bedroom window.

The aforementioned person in the window must have noticed the look of shock on Barry’s face because they also drew back in response, and were momentarily clouded by the rain. But then they moved in close again, and visibly knocked on the glass once more.

Barry stood up from his chair. He felt like his brain must have shut off in that moment, because he, without thinking, immediately unlocked the window and lifted it up just enough to hear the rain clearly.

There was definitely a woman out there, completely drenched, and hovering in the air just in arms reach of the window. She smiled a little bit when he had stood up, and that smile turned into a toothy grin the moment he had cracked it open. There was a tinge of disbelief on her face, since he opened it so easily. Barry realized his actions must’ve been the stupidest ones he’d ever taken. But it _ was _ 3am in the morning, and he was so frustrated with his research that getting bitten by a vampire seemed like a far kinder ordeal. 

The vampire hovered closer, and raised her voice just enough to be heard over the thunder.

“Are you going to invite me in?” She asked. “Since you so kindly answered my knocking.”

“I-is that a rule?”—was all he could _ think _ to reply. The vampire smirked.

“An archaic rule, and _ no _ . But it _ is _ polite.”

Well, that was an oddly appropriate response. Considering that she could’ve killed him, seconds, minutes—hell, weeks, ago, it didn’t seem like she had any intention of doing so now.

Barry lifted the window all the way up and gestured inward. “Please, come in.”

The vampire glided effortlessly through the window. Soaking wet, but not really. Her clothes dripped, for sure. But the water seemed to roll off her skin like it wasn’t really touching her. Upon standing up fully, she inspected the bedroom. It was sizable, the ceiling slanted along the beams of the roof. There was a fireplace on one end of the room, and Barry’s workspace on the other. The walls are stark white, but covered with articles and scribbled notes and photographs—organized in some strange semblance to logic that won’t make sense on a moment’s glance. But she studied them with earnest, not paying any mind to Barry—who stared at her for a second, before turning to a nearby closet.

As he searched for a dry towel, the vampire–the lady glanced at the photographs along the wall, lightly running her fingers on each one. She paused on one in particular. A faded photo from several decades ago, showing a team of young researchers. The headline above the photo reported that shortly after the group’s research began, every one of them went missing.

“Here,” Barry said, extending the towel to her. She turned to look at him, blinking a bit in surprise. But then she smiled again and took it gratefully.

“Thanks.” she walks across the room and sits down on a nearby chair.

“Um,” Barry said, and rubbed the back of his neck. He looks around the room. “You’ll have to excuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting to have a guest over.”

“A likely story,” the lady replied. “And fair. Though, I’m pretty sure you could sense my presence for a while now.”

“I...it wasn’t...not really sense,” Barry stuttered, surprised to hear her openly admit it. “T-that was you?”

“Hell yeah,” She replied, then added. “Sorry for being a bit of a creep.” She pointed at the articles on the wall. “You’re just the first vampire researcher I’ve ever encountered who didn’t make a million efforts to kill or capture me.” She looked him up and down. “That, and you’ve got harmless nerd written all over you.”

“Uh, thanks?” Barry said, unsure if he was really being insulted or not. From the smile on her face, it seemed like she was just teasing. 

She had a really nice smile. Mischievous, but not malicious. Barry felt a bit light headed, so he sat down. 

“You heard me talking to my brother,” She admitted, glancing up at the ceiling. “Actually, that’s kind of funny. You really could hear us through this roof?”

“It’s a thin roof,” Barry said, smiling. He pointed at two different buckets sitting on the floor. They plink with the sound of dripping water. “And it leaks terribly. I’ve been meaning to get it fixed for weeks now, but—”

“Your research,” she continued, seeming to understand. She ruffled the towel through her hair. Now dry, each strand fell into thick, blonde curls around her shoulders. She stood up and walked toward the fireplace. That was when Barry noticed that she hardly made a sound. He made a mental note to ask her about that, if he ever got the chance. She wore a red, sheer robe, which she quickly slipped off her shoulders and tried to wring out in front of the fireplace. Other than that, she wore a dress that looked too thin for a night this chilly. 

Barry wondered just how long she’d stay. Or if she was just biding her time before deciding to kill him then and there. He also thought about how mesmerizing her movements were. So effortless and graceful—

“It’s Lup, by the way,” she said.

“Uh...Lup?” Barry repeated, snapping out of it.

“My name,” She replied. “And yours?”

“Oh, sorry. Bad hosting,” He laughed nervously. “It’s Barry. Um...it’s a pleasure to meet you Lup. I’d like to ask, if I may—”

“Shoot for it.”

“Why...exactly...were you two hanging out on my roof?”

Lup smiled at him, and he felt his chest flutter with what he hoped was relief. She said, “The reason is nothing spectacular. It just had a pretty view of the river.” 

“That’s it?” He asked, trying not to sound slightly disappointed.

“Yeah, one night we were looking for a place to sit and chill. Happened upon this spot and just kept coming back to it.”

“Oh,” was all he replied.

“I could sense that someone lived here, but it was so dang quiet, ” she continued.

“Oh.”

“And then once I peeked in, I noticed all...this.” She gestured with both hands at the questionably strategic arrangement of info displayed on Barry’s walls. He could feel his face and hands heat up. He didn’t know what to make of the idea of a vampire just peaking in and finding his haphazard attempts at being a functional human being, well, _ amusing_.

He tried to make the best of it. “Uh, well if you’re interested in my work, I’d be happy to, I don’t know...I have some books downstairs. They’re a bit heavy on the jargon, but—”

“What are you working on now?” Lup asked, waving a hand at the piles of papers on his desk.

“Oh, this? Shit. Well, uh..” He sat down in his chair and spun back around. He gestures helplessly at his scattered mountain of notes. It’s so hard to put all his thoughts into words. Most times Barry has to set aside a day or two just to turn his half crazed ramblings into something comprehensible for the average joe. He loved his work, but it’s hardly loving him back.

These thoughts whirled through his brain, only to come to a grinding halt, as Lup—soundlessly—stood up and leaned directly over his shoulder. As she read some of the notes for herself, he sat frozen in place. Here’s a vampire—here’s a _ VAMPIRE _—leaning dangerously over his neck, her arms within choking reach, and they looked strong enough to incapacitate him if she wanted to. But, other than the initial shock, he felt no dangerous inclination coming from her. She moved from behind him and opted to grab the chair from where she was originally sitting and pull it beside Barry. She plopped down beside him and pointed at an article.

“This is incorrect,” She said. “It’s the platelets that’s vital. Not the plasma.”

“Oh?” Barry asked.

“Yeah,” She replied, easy as anything. “Of course, the plasma makes consumption a lot easier, but really any non toxic liquid will do.”

“Wait, wait.” Barry grabbed a pen. “Which liquids are toxic and non toxic?”

“Well, obviously liquid nitrogen is ineffectual for platelet storage. And pure water is just...bad.”

“Bad?”

“Boring. Uncomfortable mouth taste. Too filtered.”

“Oh.”

She prattled along with more information, a seemingly endless well of it. Barry wrote it all as quickly as he could, absorbing it all with excitement. “Oxygenated blood is ideal. But deoxygenated blood will suffice for short periods of time.” 

“Wait,” he said suddenly. “I need to stop taking your input.”

“Why?” Lup asked.

Barry rubbed the back of his neck. “I need to source this information and I...don't want to put you at risk.”

Lup blinked in surprise, but then shook her head. “You’re writing a research paper about vampires and you’re not even going to use an actual vampire as a resource?”

“I’ve never encountered a vampire so knowledgeable about, well, the scientific breakdown of vampirism,” he replies.

“What, have all the vampires you’ve encountered been frat bros?” Lup asked, rolling her eyes.

“You’d be surprised.”

“Oh, _ please_.”

“You think I jest,” Barry said, unable to hide his own amusement. “But the sheer amount of college age, young men who get turned because some pureblood likes to get around is… mind numbing.” 

“Incredible,” Lup cackled. She stood up. “But I also have a standing degree in chemistry, so you’re going to want my input.”

“Oh, that definitely changes things,” Barry replied.

She smiled again, not a toothy grin, but one brimming with knowledge. She seemed to have a million smiles. And all of them were lovely.

* * *

The night went on, far later than Barry expected. But who can keep track of time when there’s a vampire sitting right in front of you, explaining that, _ yes_, vampires can eat human food? But their gustatory perception is no better than a cat’s, and their digestive system is a nightmare beyond comprehension…

You should probably get some sleep, Barry,” Lup said, after his head dipped for the third time.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Barry mumbled, not moving. He was too tired to fix himself a pot of coffee. And that was a sign that he was _ really _ tired.

Before he could really register what was going on, the vampire_ —that he had let into his house _—that same vampire, opened the window. Outside, it had stopped raining, and the last bit of thunder was already beginning to fade away. She turned toward him. “I mean it, go to sleep.”

“Uh, will I...are you…?” He cleared his throat. “Feel free to visit.”

“Really?” Lup asked, pausing. The look on her face was indiscernible. Barry felt like folding in on himself like a piece of paper. He just asked a vampire to come visit him. Him. Visit. To his house. A vampire. But he had already made it this far into the night without losing a drop of blood, so…

“Yeah,” he said, with renewed conviction. “You seem...pretty nice. And if you want to help me with my research, I’d love the insight.” He added quickly, “And, I’m sure you can tell, I could also use the company.”

Lup looked at the window, and then turned to look back at him. There was one last smile on her face. It was so faint, barely an upturn of the corners of her mouth. But the look in her eyes was soft.

“I’ll see you later, Barry,” she said. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Lup.” he replied.

And she was quickly gone.

* * *

Lup came back, to Barry’s shock and surprise. 

When he woke up the following morning, lying on his bed without having changed, he’d been dead sure she was just a figment of his imagination. A fever dream created by his mind to give him some reprieve from all the work he had been doing. And he had readily accepted that she had just been a dream. 

A really lovely dream.

So when she showed up the following night—this time the sky wasn’t raining, but it was still chilly—tapping on his window, Barry nearly choked on his cup of coffee.

“Um…” He sputtered, lifting the window to let her glide in. He held up his own mug. “Since you’re here, would you like a cup of joe? Would that be alright?”

“Do you have uncaffeinated?” Lup asked. She walked over to the fireplace and sat cross legged in front of it. Her clothes looked more modern today than the day before. “I can’t do regular.”

“Does that have adverse effects on you?” He asked.

She smiled, and Barry was trying to double check with his brain to make sure he really wasn’t dreaming. “The only thing worse than a hungry vampire is a _ caffeinated, _hungry vampire.”

“Wait, so any stimulants...bad?”

“Fucks us up something fierce,” She said. “We’re already on a modus apparatus higher than the average human. My perception is slowed down to take yours into account. If you inhibit that—”

“Holy shit,” Barry whispered.

“Our digestive tract is so fucked up,” Lup agreed. “I'm admittedly a little afraid of how it works.”

“I’m not,” Barry said eagerly. There was a grin on his face, one that came every time he came across something budding with scientific potential. “How about a chamomile tea instead?”

“Sounds fantastic."

* * *

Lup felt far safer in Barry’s house—and in Barry presence—than anywhere else she had hidden for a long time.

Hidden was the proper word, since she found herself almost constantly on the run. Be it from policemen who would love to get their hands on a vampire trailing a local creep down an alleyway. Or from blood bank volunteers, who had to beef up their security with every new heart-shattering attack. Or from other, more powerful, more _ ravenous _vampires.

Lup had her brother, yes. They loved each other, and they had saved each other from countless near death experiences. But they were also their own people, splitting up and doing their own things. He would go and wander the big cities, the anonymity of a thousand, busy faces shielding him from the worst of it. She preferred the open countryside, where the wildlife meant no malice toward her. Occasionally, she would hide in libraries after hours, when no one spooked at the shadow of a woman between the shelves. She’d read to remind herself of the life she had lived before, well,_ this_. But those memories made her a bit sad, so she stuck to places that offered her safety.

There’s no way to put into words how a vampire can tell when a hiding place is truly safe. There are the tells: Proper isolation from direct sunlight, low human intervention, nearby sources of reliable blood supply. Those things are obvious. 

But then there's the feeling of security that is just inherent. The flicker of a warm fire. The plinking of rain off well-worn wood. The small wildflowers emerging out of stone. Distant music.

It’s a place for undead to be surrounded by continuous life.

Lup liked Barry, she was worried to admit. He smiled every time she knocked on his window, first with surprise, then with expectancy. She hadn’t meant to visit so often that he would come to expect her. But what else could she have done? The last consistent place she had hidden—an old, abandoned silo—had been put under inspection for demolition. She had barely escaped that incident with a pitchfork to the torso. 

Lup had a sneaking suspicion that Barry liked her too. She could practically feel a fondness in how he spoke to her. The only thing that seemed to keep him more starry eyed than herself was the work he did.

The attic was his place to organize his thoughts. But the basement was his place of...well, _ experimentation. _His research was sometimes gruesome. The sort of thing that could render him just as reviled from regular society as her, if he wasn't so damn unassuming as a person. Sometimes she slip through his window, and he’d be covered from head to toe in blood. He’d have bandages on his hands from chemical burns. She feared one of these days he might slip up and contract something dangerous due to the exposure. But he always looked at her with the same, good-natured, maybe a bit embarrassed, smile. He immediately excused himself and went downstairs, coming back looking much less like an axe murderer. When he wasn’t experimenting, he kept everything well sanitized. 

He’d been doing this for a long time.

* * *

One night, Lup came and found Barry at his desk, crying. A colleague of his had been killed in an attack. One of far too many. 

He stammered out a disheartened explanation—which Lup cut off with a comforting hug. He wrapped his arms around her, too sad to care about how close she was to his arteries. His words fell broken to the floor: Something about an ambush. Some people were turned, and had to be put down. Barry Bluejeans, thought by many to be unpersonable, mourned them deeply. Lup rubbed his back, understanding. His was a risky business. Rotten work.

She knew this all too well.

* * *

“Where do you go when daylight hits?” Barry asked, his curiosity outweighing his politeness. He didn’t question where she disappeared to most times. Only that she would make sure that he was on his way to bed before she took off. He sometimes considered pulling all nighters—but she wouldn’t have it. And neither would his body.

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” Lup replied, humming a laugh into her tea cup.

“Last I checked, a magician and a vampire were two different things,” He replied.

“They can be both!” Lup said, incredulous. “Who’s the vampire expert here, Barold?”

“_I’m _ the one with the PhD.”

“Fuck you!” Lup laughed. She nudged him with her foot. He smiled and got up to stick another log in the fireplace. They weren’t going to get much work done tonight, on this they both wordlessly agreed. Lup turned in her chair. “If you must know, I’ve found a cushy little cabin that’s empty half the year. Some rich bastard’s secret love nest.”

“Scandalous,” Barry replied, sitting back down. He shot her a teasing look. “Are you certain you haven’t encountered said _‘rich bastard’_ yourself?’”

“If he encounters me, he'll going to be in for a rude awakening,” Lup replied. The tone in her voice put an end to that line of thought. She didn’t speak much on romance, and Barry was far too anxious to even consider bringing it up.

“Where do you go to the other half of the year?” Barry asked.

Lup shrugged. “I move around. To be honest, I almost never stay in one place for more than a month or so. Vampire culture is nomadic at best, territorial at worst.”

“I see,” Barry said. He didn’t point out that Lup had been regularly visiting him for three months now, going on four. Just poured her another cup of tea.

* * *

He'd only seen her enter his room injured once. She had a big gash across her face. He winced when he saw it, but quickly went to get a bandage.

"Don't bother with antiseptic," Lup said. Her voice was clearly pained. "It should be cleared up by morning."

"What happened?" Barry hazard to ask. She was right, her face was visibly healing. But it was a deep cut nonetheless. He couldn't fathom what had caused it.

"_Rich bastard_ is what happened," Lup replied. Her eyes narrowed with spite. "But believe me. He looks a lot worse than I do right now."

Barry nodded, and kept that particular bit of information to himself.

* * *

“I’m going to cook for you!” Lup declared one night. “I can’t bear to see you eat takeout _every_ goddamn day of the week!”

“I got a salad!” Barry argued, holding up his purchase.

Lup shook her head. “Barry. _ Babe. _ I’m a blood sucking creature of the night, and I don’t think I could bring myself to suck your blood for fear of the calories.”

Barry took some offense to that. Lup laughed at his pouting expression and began to rummage around his kitchen. She promised that she could whip up something that was far kinder to his body than what he was usually eating. Barry was dubious, but when she made him go back out and buy groceries, he obliged. When he came back, she made the best roast beef and steamed vegetables he had eaten in a long time.  
She started coming over earlier to keep a tab on his meal preferences. Of course.

* * *

Barry woke up to the sound of screaming. A cloud of dust poured out of his chimney. He slipped on his glasses and looked up at the ceiling.

“Be _ quiet _ already!” exclaimed a voice. 

“Oh! So _ now _ you’re afraid of being detected?” shouted another. “Why are you still here! What the hell is wrong with you!”

“Nothing wrong! Why the hell do you have to make such a _ big deal _ out of everything!”

There was a banging sound. The decades old beams of the roof groaned. Shingles started falling off. Barry slipped out of bed and backed into a corner, near the door. The screaming continued, incomprehensible. He wanted to say something, to intervene. But he just stood there, knowing it was too dangerous to do much of anything. He felt so helpless.

And that’s when Lup came crashing through his paper thin roof. She landed on her back, just missing his bed. Barry looked at her and then up through the hole. He saw, in the light of the moonlight, a growling face. Beautiful—terrifyingly beautiful. Barry locked eyes with the individual, concerned that they would come down there and finish him off. But the man on the roof shook his head and flew off, not bothering to say anything. Barry waited for his heart to quit pounding, then bent down to help Lup to her feet. From the ease in which she moved, she didn’t seem hurt in any way, but she was shaking.

“Lup,” he murmured, guiding her to sit on the bed. “I got you.”

She was clearly upset. She didn’t say anything as he removed the debris from around her, draped a blanket around her shoulders, and went downstairs. A few minutes later, he came back with a cup of tea and a tool box. She said nothing as he placed the warm, steaming cup in her hands and went back downstairs. She stared at the cup of tea, the golden edge looked like a glowing ring of flame around the warm drink. When Barry came back upstairs, he was carrying a short step ladder and a large, black tarp.

“The sky looks clear out,” he said, not sure if she was really listening. “This’ll probably hold out until I can get a contractor.” As he climbed up the ladder, he paused. “Shit, I may have to hide you downstairs if they come over.”

Lup sat the cup down on the floor. Her hands came up to her face, and her shoulders started to shake. Barry climbed down and sat on the bed beside her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. She leaned into him, sobbing quietly, her tears tinged red. Not like how he had cried when she had held him, voice choked up by sniffles and coughing. Her head was turned away, probably to save his shirt from blood stains. But the way her face twisted, he felt heartbroken for her. He wanted to press his thumbs against the creases in her pretty face and wipe them all away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered finally.

“Don’t fret,” he replied. He wasn’t exactly sure what specifically she was apologizing for. He patted her back anyway.

She wiped her face with the back of her hand and slung an arm around his waist. “I’m sorry I got you roped into my mess.”

He shook his head. “I’m glad I’ve been roped in.”

They were silent for a moment. The moonlight poured through his now gaping roof. Maybe a bit of snow as well. The months were horrendously cold, of late.

“Can...can I stay here?” Lup asked. Her voice very, very quiet.

“Of course you can,” Barry said. “You can come and go as you please,”

“Are you sure about that?” She looked up at him, and her eyes took on a familiar, _ teasing _, glow. “I won’t make much of a tenant. And I definitely don’t think I could pay rent.”

Barry squeezed her hands. His were warm, worn. Her’s were slightly less so, lacking a pulse. But the warmth in her eyes made up for it. 

“We’ll make it work,” he said, smiling. Then he nodded up at the broken ceiling. “Speaking of making things work...mind giving me a hand with, uh, _ this? _”

Lup gave a small smile of her own. “Okay, Barry.”


	2. Not if it's You

Compromises were made, certainly.

He let her stay there during the day, while he went over to the university. She stayed up late, organizing his research while he slept. It was a very useful work relationship, albiet odd as fuck.

“You’re sure you’re cool sleeping with me here?” she asked.

Lup didn’t sleep, so much as deanimate. Barry insisted on letting her use his bed while he was at work, but she felt like that was too much of an invasion. Sometimes she would go downstairs and lay on the old, worn out couch. But most days, she opted for leaning against a corner of the room. Her mimicked breathing would stop, her limbs would still. Whatever hints of color existed on her face faded away. A chill went down Barry’s spine whenever Lup would get like this. He had spent his whole life working with dead creatures. But watching someone he had come to—watching someone he had come to know, just...turn off like that? Strange.

“I wouldn’t have stopped you if you wanted to,” he replied. “And I've been pretty shitty at staying conscious with you here regardless.”

It was true, he had fallen asleep many times with her already being there. The tap of her scribbling pen and the ticking of the clock above his desk was was all it took. Especially on those long nights that became morning too soon. Sending him tipping onto dreamland. Barry would fall asleep, and he’d wake up to a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and a pillow tucked between his head and the desk. Lup would be standing off in the darkest part of the room, still as death. It had terrified him on two occasions, waking up to see her standing there, staring at him. Both times she looked embarrassed after the fact.

“Maybe I should just slip out,” she suggested. “You need the rest. And there’s plenty of places for me to hang out during the night.”

“Like my roof, you mean?” He jabbed. She pinched his arm, which only made him chuckle.

* * *

  
Barry did have to call a contractor to fix the roof. They came in on a Monday morning. Barry stayed upstairs to keep them occupied, while Lup stayed down in the basement. She sat wedged between two large filtration tanks, reading a book on current vampiric findings. The lights were off, but her vision was perfectly fine.

As soon as the roof was fixed, and the workmen were gone, Barry came downstairs to bring Lup back up. He couldn’t hear her move in the pitch darkness. One moment he was alone. The next, she was beside him, about to mention something about lunch. He screamed out loud and almost fell back on the staircase. Lup caught him in her arms, just in time. Her laughter rang through the lab just as loud at his scream had.

“You’re helpless,” She said, between giggles. They sat down on the steps, her arms still around his waist. Barry sighed and caught his breath.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I guess I am.”

* * *

  
Barry was a mess of man. A very good mess. Lup was grateful that he existed at the same time she did. And she hadn’t felt that comfort—aside from her brother—about anyone in a while. But here, in this house, there were hints of him everywhere. The half drank mugs of coffee, the notes written in his almost indescribable handwriting. The utterly mind-boggling number of denim jeans (_Why_ would one man own so many jeans? <strike>It didn’t matter. It suited him,</strike> but still, _why?_) But these pieces of eccentricities fell into the puzzle that was a man who was wonderfully brilliant and easy to please.

She tried not to touch him, those first couple of weeks when she visited. She made a habit of not touching anyone she grew a liking to, because she could definitely feel the pulse beneath their skin. The rhythmic pounding of their circulatory system was just a bit too entrancing. But she had failed many times. Her arm would bump into his when she reached across his desk. A betraying hand would flicker through his hair when she chided him for not going to bed earlier. She’s poke his chest when he’d come down on himself.

He didn’t help matters, just by passing things to her: a pen, a mug of tea. She could be sitting still, and then suddenly a blanket would be draped around her shoulders, though she didn’t need it.

“You just look like you could do with something warm,” he’d say. She’d smile, because he was warm. She never realized how warm he was until she would glide through his window and realize just how cold the world outside was. She was used to traveling around, but she found herself venturing out less and less.

Barry never asked about her past, at least, not without her mentioning something first. He wanted to learn about her as she was now, taking whatever history she was comfortable enough to give him with a sort of grace. He spoke about himself to fill the time. About the books he’d written, places he’d been—a surprising number, considering how much of a homebody he seemed to be. About theories that he was so sure would work, if only he had the right conditions to test them out in.

He gave so much of himself to her. Lup felt like she could absorb any and everything about Barry, and still feel light enough to take on more. It never felt burdensome. His heart was open, and she could feel its pulse.

* * *

  
There was also her twin brother, who Barry had the displeasure of meeting when he had pushed her through Barry’s roof in a heated disagreement.

Who Barry rediscovered late one night, when Lup frantically knocked on his window and pulled a blood-soaked, badly injured lad into the room. She laid him on Barry’s bed without much thought. The man was shaking violently, since his wounds were desperately trying to reheal. One of his arms was making an awful noise as the bones were shifting back into place on their own. He looked scared, pitiful. A far cry from the fear-inducing presence he had been just a short while ago.

“Can you keep him here?” Lup asked, her voice choked and desperate. Barry had never seen Lup scared before. “Until he heals?”

“Of course,” He replied, still absolutely terrified. An injured vampire was far more likely to react violently to any sort of human intervention. But Lup if stayed with him the whole night, he figured he could take that sort of risk. He trusted her.

Lup nodded gratefully and turned her attention back to the man on the bed. He wasn’t quite breathing, but the sound coming from his lips seemed pained anyway.

“It’s going to be okay, Ko,” Lup whispered, cupping his face. “We’re somewhere safe.”

Barry went downstairs to get a mop, to clean up the spilled blood on his floor, the blood from Lup’s injured brother. When he came up and saw that it had dried, he did the reasonable thing and cleaned it up without taking a sample for later. Seemed like a pretty shitty thing to do, what with Lup doing whatever she could to make him more comfortable.

The thought did cross Barry’s mind though.

* * *

  
It took three days. Three full days for the worst of the injuries to heal. Barry advised that Taako stay down for at least a week, maybe two. But both twins seemed against it. In that time span, Taako _would not_ shut up about anything, and Barry learned a lot more about the twins than he ever wanted to know. He learned about the town they grew up in, how they were orphans and were passed around from family member to family member. He learned that they were both very good cooks, Taako being the better of the two, and making that fact quite known.

The only thing Taako didn’t talk about was how he and Lup became vampires.

Which was fine by Barry. He knew that it was probably a touchy subject. He didn’t say much on it, only noting that they were much older than he previously suspected. They beat him in age by nearly 50 years. He figured they’d be withered and grey in real life. He also figured that he might never have met Lup if that had been the case.

He folded that thought up and tucked it away in his mind.

* * *

  
“Please don’t root around in my fridges while I’m gone,” Barry said, putting on a coat. “Not everything in there is edible.”

“Not with that attitude,” Taako shot back, sitting up in bed. His broken arm was in a sling, and he was munching on an apple hand pie. Barry realized pretty quickly that Taako was even less than a threat than Lup was. He was talkative, lazy, despite his strength, and smart, despite playing the aloof game.

It was early in the morning, and Barry was trying to get ready for work. He couldn’t imagine how Taako could be up this late without sleeping. Lup was pretty adamant about vampires needing just as much rest as humans.

She sat cross legged in a chair, watching both of them with amusement.

“You’ve got all this nerd shit about vampires, and don’t even have a full one in like a life-sized formaldehyde container or something?” Taako asked.

“Nope,” Barry replied. “I save the life sized containers for clones of myself.”

“You disappoint me, Barold,” Taako said, scoffing.

Lup looked over at Barry and grinned. “He likes you.”

Taako stuck his tongue out at her and flopped back on the bed. "And here I thought Lup was in danger of hanging around here for so long. You're lucky we're chill, Barold, or you would've been fuckin' drained _weeks_ ago."

"Why _didn't_ you attack me weeks ago?" Barry asked, genuinely curious. "Like you said, I'd be easy prey."

"You—" Taako started, and then he stopped. Both him and Lup were quiet for a moment. Barry worried that he had said something wrong. Lup got up from her chair and walked over to pat him on the back.

"You're gonna change the world, Babe," she said. "It's best we keep you around for a bit longer."

* * *

  
As soon as he was fully healed, Taako slipped out the window, said good riddance, and declared that he’d never show his face around here again.

* * *

  
He then immediately showed up the next night. Barry didn’t even jolt when Taako stomped in and plopped down in a chair across the room. Complaints about the current nightlife fell out of his mouth like rain from the sky.

Lup insisted on gliding through Barry’s window every time she entered. There was something of a smug grin on her face whenever she did it. She liked the mystified look on Barry’s face as she floated through, as though he couldn’t get over how otherworldly she was.

Taako, on the other hand, banged on the back door like some sort of disgruntled deliveryman. It seemed that way too, since he never entered without carrying something is his hands. He would drop random items off and pick stuff up, giving no explanation to his actions. Lup looked a little more than annoyed whenever he did, since his presence often interrupted very riveting discussions, like vampire bodily autonomy, or undead protective rituals.

Barry was just glad to have the extra company.

* * *

  
“You have a guest room in here?” Taako asked once, nosing around the rest of Barry’s house.

“Yeah,” Barry replied. “But it’s kind of dusty.”

“What kind of vampire bed and breakfast are you running here, Barold?” Taako said, disgust written across his face. Barry just shrugged. Taako went and found the nearest broom as dustpan. He and Lup spent a day cleaning out the guest room.

No one questioned Taako deciding to use it to sleep in from time to time.

* * *

  
“Hey, Barold. You wanna see something cool?” Taako asked, one late afternoon.

“Is this the same kind of cool as when you removed bone shards from your arm so it could heal properly?”

That wasn’t a jab on Barry’s part. He genuinely thought it was cool. Part of Taako’s bone was sitting on his desk right now, preserved in a jar before it could disintegrate.

“Come on,” Taako said. “You thought that was funny, Barry.”

“I said it was a bit humerus,” Barry said, a little disappointed that that pun went over Taako’s head. But not everyone’s a biology wiz.

Lup had laughed though, and she wouldn’t tell Taako why. So frankly, that was a win in Barry’s book.

“Check this out,” Taako said, and without prompting, the chair that he was sitting in started levitating. Barry arched an eyebrow.

“I know vampires have telekinesis, Taako,” he replied, trying not to sound too unimpressed.

“That’s not the cool thing I’m referring to,” Taako said. And, true to his word, the simple, wooden chair he was sitting in began to warp and change. The structure of the wood seemed to bend on it’s own, the material taking on a metallic sheen. Before Barry’s eyes, he watched as Taako slowly drifted down into a far more modern seat than before. Barry’s hands automatically drifted to a pen and notebook.

“Transmutation?” He asked, unable to believe it. Taako grinned.

There was word going around the research community that certain vampires possessed special abilities beyond the average modicum. But it was more myth than anything noteworthy.

But here was living proof. In Barry’s fucking dining room of all places.

“Would you—?” Barry stopped himself. Lup had willingly offered her knowledge of vampirism to his research. But he didn’t want to press her—or to Taako, for that manner— on the option of experimentation. He cared for them far too much to subject either of them to that.

“Would I help you with your research on vampire specialties?” Taako finished for him. Barry nodded. Taako leaned back in the chair and thought it over. “Sure, my dude. But in exchange, you have to let me transmute the rest of the chairs. And the other house furniture for that matter. The feng shui is gonna be all wack otherwise.”

“You’re willing to be subject to tests...in exchange for free reign interior design?” Barry asked.

“I don’t question your hobbies, Barold. Fuck off.”

* * *

“I was gone for one night and you let him transmute _ the house? _” Lup asked.

Taako had made himself scarce as soon as she slipped through the door, leaving Barry to take the brunt of her incredulity. 

“It was for science!” Barry explained. Lup rolled her eyes. 

The entire living room was a mishmash of neon. _ NEON. _What guest would want to see this? Even if two of them were vampires, and one of them was a recluse, she still had to live here and look at this shit!

“I’m going to make him tone it down,” she said, before laughing. “I’m fucking ageless, and yet you two still manage to run me deeper into the grave!”

“I’m glad to see you too,” Barry said, beaming.

* * *

  
Barry appreciated that Lup was around during the day. She wasn’t obligated to be there. Honestly, it didn’t seem like she was obligated to anything. Her and Taako were, in Taako’s words, "off the grid." They kept clothes—which were tossed in with Barry’s laundry. And cooked food—that Barry went on regular grocery runs to get. (He ordered take out far less frequently now.) They had attempted to maintain something of human normalcy in their early vampiric years, but eventually that all fell to waste.

They did not tell him where they regularly fed. He did not ask. But he _did_ put in an order for a proper plasmapheresis machine. Because...reasons.

Lup seemed to treat their existence as vampires with a certain level of apathy. She didn’t hate it, but she didn’t seem to enjoy it that much either. She would make jokes at Barry, about sinking her teeth into him if he ever said she was wrong about anything. But he had corrected her on a few things, mainly about new discoveries that had disproven some old theories.  
Instead of looking like she wanted to kill him, Lup looked at Barry like she wanted to learn more from him. About him. He felt like in some small way, he was always behind studied under her gaze. Not scrutiny or anything like that, but…

“You’re drifting off again, Barry,” Lup said softly, interrupting his thoughts.

Barry set the pen in his hand down and rubbed his eyes. Taako was downstairs, probably poking his head around Barry’s lab again. As much as Taako voiced a disinterest in Barry’s work, he seemed to invest his own casual curiosity in the more supernatural elements.

Barry stood up from his chair and headed towards the dresser. He figured a shower and a change of clothes was in order before going to sleep. Right as he put a hand on the knob of the door, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

He turned toward Lup, who had, in usual silent fashion, appeared beside him. He’d grown used to her just being there, to expect her at every turn. And right now, there she was, larger than life and absolutely stunning in the glow of the fireplace.

She didn’t say anything as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t know how to react immediately, tensing up at first. But then he relaxed into the hug, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She seemed to approve of the gesture, not letting go of him, and instead opting to run a hand through his hair.

Barry held onto her, with no real intention of letting go. He glanced around, wondering how he ended up here, like this. His eyes landed on the other side of the room.

Through the open doorway, in the shadow of the hallway that led toward the stairs, Barry swore he saw Taako, about to come up and re-enter the room. But then he blinked, and Taako was gone.

* * *

“So you’re dating my sister?” Taako asked.

Barry had never been more glad for Lup to be out of the house in his life. It was around 9:00pm, and she planned on checking out a play going on at a nearby theatre. She had refused money from Barry to get a ticket, saying that there were other ways for her to slip in. He looked at her with his usual bought of nervousness. She smiled and asked him if he wanted to come with her, and maybe then she’d let him buy her a ticket then.

And Barry, like a dumbass, chickened out and said he had to finish a draft tonight. It was true. But the shred of disappointment on Lup’s face made him want to throw his stacks of academic journals out the window as soon as she was gone.

“It’s not like that,” Barry replied to Taako. “She’s helping me with my research.”

“Uh huh,” Taako replied, absolutely not believing a word of that. He was busy using floating random objects on Barry’s desk, much to the latter’s annoyance. “I’d give you the third degree, but considering she could rip your throat out—and she hasn’t yet—that leaves me to believe you’re okay.”

Barry grabbed at cup of coffee that was floating dangerously over some work notes. “Thanks, bud.”

“No biggie,” Taako replied, and stopped messing with him. He walked over to the window and lifted it.

“Where are you headed to?” Barry asked. It was bad enough that Lup wasn’t hanging out with him. Now Taako was absconding too.

“I recognize the look on my sister’s face,” Taako replied, as if that answered anything. “And I don’t want to be here when _it_ happens. See you in a week or two, Barold.”

“What?” Barry asked. “What do you—”

But Taako was gone.

* * *

  
“How was the show?” Barry asked, as Lup slipped in through the window later that night.

“It was good,” she said, a bit flat. She was back far sooner than Barry expected, he had barely made a dent in his writing. There was a definite awkwardness that hung in the air, which Lup ended by asking, “Did you finish your draft?”

“Not really,” Barry admitted. “Taako insisted on trying to levitate all my stuff.”

Lup scoffed at that, some of the fun returning to her face. Barry was happy for that.

“Where is Taako now?” she asked.

Barry shrugged. “He got bored and decided to go fly somewhere. Said he’d be back in a week or two.”

“Sounds like a him thing to do,” she replied. There was another quiet pause. Lup nodded at his desk. “You gonna finish working on your thing?”

“No,” Barry admitted. “I think...” He sighed. “I think I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yeah.” He felt his face burn red. “I wish—I should’ve gone with you to the play. I think it would’ve been good for me to get out of the house.”

Lup smiled at him, small and kind. “Don’t worry about it. It was a fucking shitty ass play.”

“Was it really?” he asked, trying not to burst out laughing.

“The worst!” Lup exclaimed. “Nobody rehearsed, it seems like! The show was supposed to be two hours long, but I left at intermission.”

“I was wondering why you’d gotten back so early,” Barry admitted. “I thought it was just a short show.” He glanced out the window. It was starting to snow, but not too bad. He looked back at Lup, and felt a little bit daring. “Come with me. The night is still pretty young.”

Lup tilted her head, and there was a look on her face that read like she very much wanted to say something. Barry didn’t know what to make of that look. He realized that what he was asking sounded very much like a date, and the whole idea of just _that_ made him want to bury his head in a pillow for hours.

After a moment, she said, “I’m game. Let’s do it!” She slipped off the desk, and quickly added, “On one condition.”

“Condition?” Barry asked. He was so surprised that she agreed that he nearly dropped the coat draped on the back of his chair.

“No nerd shit when we head outside,” Lup decided.

“Deal.”

* * *

  
They walked through the park. It had stopped snowing momentarily. The fresh sheets of fluff caught the light of the street lamps and glittered in warm, welcoming colors.

“Is the wool coat performative?” Barry asked, looking at the coat that Lup was wearing. Her wardrobe definitely changed with her mood. It could be loud and mishmash. Or tasteful and played down. Today it was very fitting for the weather.

“I guess so,” She replied, glancing at herself. “I still feel the chill, but it doesn’t slow my nervous system. Wait, fuck—” She slapped her forehead. “I said no nerd shit outside!”

“You certainly did,” Barry said, laughing.

“I thought _you_ would break before I would!” She’s yelling, but with a smile. Barry continues to laugh.

“Well, I did ask, so I guess I ruined it,” Barry admitted.

“Uh huh! You nerd!” Lup said. She tried to push him into the snow. But as her hands reached to shove him, he grabbed on to her arms, and they both went tumbling down together. There wasn’t much snow on the ground, but it was enough to save them both from a hard fall.

Lup laughed into Barry’s chest as they tried, and failed, to pull each other back up. After a moment, she simply rolled off him and they both sat on the ground. The snow once again started to fall on them, very quietly and gently. Lup scooted close and leaned her head on his shoulder. They sat there and admired the lights of the surrounding buildings. It was the dead of winter, but the old town somehow managed to look colorful and twinkly. It was a good night to be out.

After a while, Barry’s hands and nose stung with cold. He knew if he stayed out here any longer, he might risk getting sick. So he slowly pulled himself up.

“Let’s go home,” he said, offering Lup his arm.

“Okay,” she replied, taking it, and liking the way he said _home._

* * *

  
They got home, and with barely any time to take their coats off, Lup began pressing a string of kisses along Barry’s jaw. He kissed her back, nervously, but sweet. Lup had experienced many decades of sloppy smooching random nobodies with little intent of going beyond that. They were fun, but unremarkable.

Yet the fluttering of butterfly kisses being laid tenderly on her neck were so welcoming. And the gentle way Barry ran his hands along her back was a comfort. She been fooling herself long enough, knowing that how she felt about him was deeper than some placating crush. His touch made her want more than beyond. She wanted everything.

* * *

  
Suddenly it occurred to Barry why Taako wanted to vacate the house earlier, and he was very grateful to him for doing so.

* * *

  
“So you two are a thing now?” Taako asked. He’d been away for two weeks, like he’d said.

“Yeah,” they both replied. Lup was lounging across Barry’s lap. They were both on the couch, enjoying a calm evening. A nearby radio played some late night jazz.

“Gross,” Taako said. He grabbed a soda from the kitchen fridge and floated out the nearest window. “If you need me, I’ll be on the roof.”

* * *

  
Some days Barry would come home, and Lup would still be asleep. The first time it happened, he pulled up a chair and waited for her to wake up. He didn’t want to be rude by staring at her—but he had to know. Sure enough, an hour in, the barest hint of color rose back to her skin. Her eyelids jolted open, as if the batteries had been put back into a doll. And like a doll, her eyes seemed glazed over, lacking cognizance. Barry turned away, a bit unsettled. After a moment, he heard her yawn and stretch out behind him. When he felt it safe, he turned back around to face her.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Barry,” She said, smiling at him. “What if I lunged at you on instinct as soon as I woke up?”

“But satisfaction brought him back,” he replied, unable to fight the smile on his own face. Lup rolled her eyes. She walked towards him, reaching out to rest her hands on his shoulders.

“This is me lunging at you, right now,” She declared.

“You’re certainly taking your time,” He replied.

“I just woke up, Babe. Cut me some slack.”

He chuckled. “Okay, Lup.”

She slowly wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. “This is me, about to sink my teeth into you, Barry. You’re in my clutches now.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “Glad to now you’re giving me fair warning.”

Lup hummed and pressed her lips to the side of his face. She could feel his pulse just beneath his skin—a bit quick, but slowing as she held him. He felt warm. Alive. Good.

“You’re mine now,” she said, turning her head away to rest it on his shoulders. “You have to do what I say.”

“Anything,” he replied, happy to be able to come home to this. To her. “Your wish is my command.”

* * *

  
“I’ll suck you dry if you try that again,” Taako yelled, after Barry tried, _and succeeded_, to keep him out of the house with a temporary sigil on the back doorway. He didn’t like to be mean to Taako, but there weren’t that many vampires around who regularly crossed his threshold like they owned the place. Barry bit down the ‘that’s what she said’ that was perched on his lips, and opted to just continue with his notes.

Unfortunately, Lup was in the house, and she had far better hearing than a normal person.

“That’s what I said!” she called from the kitchen.

Taako shot back through the door, cursing and screaming in outrage. He refused to step into the house for a week.

Barry doubled over the coffee table, covering his mouth to choke back the laughter. He enjoyed their company _far_ too much. The rhythm of their lives together was steadily finding a place within his heart.

* * *

  
“Maybe...we should leave,” Lup said. It had been eight months. More like ten. Maybe a year. Roses were blossoming on vines that crawled up the side of Barry’s house. They shined a bluish hue in the moonlight. She had never stayed in one place for so long. “It could be safer, for the both of us. For me and Taako.”

Barry had considered this as well. The fear for any of their safety was always in the back of his mind. _Legally_, he wasn't obligated to tell anyone that he was harboring vampires. Legislate was moving far slower than the world. And the world was growing tolerant of vampires. But by how much? And for how long? He didn’t know. The depth of his newfound research was turning the minds of _some_ powerful people. But still, not enough. 

Everyday he lived, he lived it on the razor's edge. 

He looked over at Lup. She was leaning on the wall, near the window. The one that she had glided through, into his life, not so long ago. Taako had gone off somewhere, so it was very quiet with just the two of them. Barry rose from his desk and asked, “But would that...make things better? Easier?”

“No,” Lup admitted, her eyes on the windowsill. “I really think it wouldn’t.”

“Then don’t go,” he said. 

Lup looked up at him asked, “But if we ever have to leave? If _I_ have to leave?”

Barry looked saddened by her question, and she immediately regretted asking it. But then he shook his head and gestured at the room around them. There were fewer academic notes and article clippings on the walls. They had been replaced with circlets of flowers, scribblings of wild animals, and random shiny things that the twins had collected over time. Strings of lights hung from the newly constructed ceiling. A kettle and a set of mugs sat on the mantle of the fireplace. There were more chairs in the room, arranged for people to sit and chat.

Barry gestured at all this. At the home they had been building together.

“There’s so much of you here," he said. "If you ever have to go...well, a part of you would still belong to me.” Lup reached out and cradled his face in her hands.

“That part of me is yours,” she said, eyes sparkling. “All yours. _I’m_ yours.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, Lup.”

“I love you too, Barry,” she replied, like it was easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twist plot! I said this was two parts, but there's actually a third chapter in the works, which I'll post at a later date. There's just a lot I want to play around with in this space. These two in particular were about Lup and Barry, the next will be more focused on Taako and his biz. I hope you've enjoyed this, I had fun writing it! :0


	3. A Partner in my Madness

Taako had friends in high places.

That is to say, most of his friends hung out in attics, balconies, alcoves and, of course, rooftops. The logical explanation for such habits was the advantage of having a bird’s eye view without being immediately spotted. It’s much harder to get a stake launched at you when you have somewhere to duck into. And as much fun as roaming the countryside tended to be, not having solid covering to block out the sun was a definite concern.

Magnus, a young man made vampire within the past decade, hung around a lumber mill, sometimes taking up odd jobs when the opportunity arose. Even before he was turned, his impressive build and quick reflexes was something to be valued, on account of lumber work not being the safest industry for mere mortals. Which is why all the workmen turned a blind eye to his continued employment. Especially late at night, when everyone else was home. 

Merle was one of the older ones, in age and physique. Turned much later in his life than most, he opted to frequent religious buildings and beachfronts—with no in between. The sanctuaries offered dark seclusion during the day, and the beaches offered open reflection late at night. Most evenings he would spend walking the piers, giving out pamphlets, prophesying a time when all the creatures of the world—of the day and night, would live in prosperous harmony. 

That was kind of an impossibility right now, as headlines constantly blared whatever vampire attack had happened within that week. Articles detailing large hordes of nightwalkers, stalking the land in search of unsuspecting villages to upend. Of course, much of the stories were filled with vagaries and embellishments. The attacks weren’t nearly so frequent, and most people who were reported missing had running reputations for being the sort that people wouldn’t mind going “amiss” anyways. But there was still that one or two attack that would leave most people shivering in their beds, terrified of the nighttime.

Magnus and Merle, in their own ways, were doing their best to relieve some of those fears. There were murmurings of a movement brewing, Merle had claimed. The vampire community could offer their longevity and mental faculties to libraries and museums. All they needed was a chance for people to get accustomed to them. An assurance that they were not a threat.

They were Lup’s friends too, of course.

But lately, Lup had devoted her attention to a certain _human_ scientist. Taako knew something was up when she mentioned not spending much time roaming around like she used to. Lup loved exploring the countryside—the nerd. It was only when he discovered that the object of her attention (re: not so subtle flirting) was a human that he had cause for concern. And it was when he caught a glimpse through Barry’s window one night and had seen that the man—who Lup had only described as being, up to this point, even greater nerd—was a _ scientist _ that _ studied _ and _ experimented _ on vampires, that he intervened.

And by intervened, Taako and Lup got into a fight that shook the foundations of Barry’s house.

Barry’s ceiling had taken the brunt of that brawl, much to Barry’s concern. Taako couldn’t give less of a fuck. Barry was registered as a threat, and Taako was not about to lose his sister to some knowledge greedy researcher. He had seen enough of that happen in his undead lifetime. He was ready to make a scene.

But the look on Barry’s face, the fear that instantly gripped him when they had locked eyes—Barry was still in his pajamas, and had haphazardly slipped on his glass. Barry’s attention had first been on the broken roof, but they immediately shifted over to Lup. He looked scared, but also distracted. He didn’t react at all like Taako expected, so Taako flew off to reassess his thoughts, to clear his head before he came back to maybe rip the scientist’s throat out.

But when he got back, there was a tarp covering the hole, and a light on in the room. He edged closer and could hear voices murmuring from inside. With a peek through the window, Taako glimpsed Barry and Lup sitting against each other on the edge of the bed. Both of them looked close to falling asleep in the midst of comforting each other. But they looked surprisingly happy.

So Taako only felt a tiny bit bad about damaging the roof.

* * *

These days, Barry was a friend. And a pretty highly ranked one at that, considering he was human, and thought the fact that two vampires stayed at his residence was more cause for celebration than concern. The real turning point came when Taako had gotten into a nasty scrape with another vampire that he thought had been his friend—which left him half runover by a horse drawn carriage in an attempt to flee, and the distant, foggy sound of Lup desperately repeating his name. His arm and torso were searing as they healed, as his sister levitated his crumpled form off the road and into a home that had felt _ familiar. _

_ But not too— _

Taako couldn’t put a pin into Barry’s sense of code of ethics (they were there, just shaky at best). And he definitely wasn’t fond of Barry’s…specimens. But with all of Taako’s personal hangups and well-earned reservation, he just kind of springboarded himself into liking Barry. Barry was kind to Taako. Fuck, Barry was kind to everyone, especially to Lup, who had in no short order, decided that they were going to live there. Two vampires, staying in a snug little home at the end of an old cobblestone lane near a rushing river? Unbelievable. She was going to help Barry with his research, whilst occasionally giving Taako cause to leave the house—so they could have _ alone time _ together, to Taako’s disgust. 

It was one such occasion of Taako deciding to wander the night alone, that he made an interesting discovery.

* * *

Taako had found the guy staked to the side of a mausoleum, while on the hunt for fairer game. 

Well, less staked and more _ harpooned _ by a large wooden beam, half the width of a fallen tree. Whoever had got him ran off in a hurry, because the dirt on the ground was still shifted around like there had been a struggle. It wasn’t too late at night, but the smell of blood was heavy in the air. The only light around was a lantern that had been abandoned nearby. 

“Damn, homie,” Taako said, stepping into the light and getting an eyeful of the body. “They really pulled a number on you.”

“No kidding,” the currently-staked-vampire replied, which took Taako by _ surprise _ . A vampire was usually rendered completely immobile by being staked through the heart. But this guy blinked at him, and winced like he was more mildly inconvenienced than anything else. Taako should’ve scampered away immediately—it was dangerous enough knowing that there was someone out there strong enough to take out a vampire. Not to mention a vampire that could _ withstand _ a whole ass staking. Albeit, said vampire was still pinned to the wall, despite his best efforts to free himself.

Also the dude was just, unreasonably hot.

“Riddle me this, scarecrow,” Taako said, deciding to take a seat on an old, broken gravestone nearby. “How the hell are you not on death’s door right now?””

“Pureblood,” the man responded. Ah. “Rituals like this don’t necessarily work on me.”

“And yet you still can’t free yourself?”

“They don’t work _ completely _.”

“Uh huh.” Taako grinned at him. The man looked a little annoyed at the flippant response but he wasn’t in a situation worth arguing.

Taako knew the position he was in was dangerous, sure. People would be approaching soon, to finish what they started. A pitchfork and a pair of angry dogs was not a great way to end an evening. Still, this person interested him.

“What...what are you doing out here?” The man asked. He must’ve given up freeing himself. His arms and legs were still pressed against the wall, but he wasn’t putting up much of a fight. “It’s clearly not safe for you to be here. The priest who got me will be back.”

Taako rose from his seat and folded his arms casually. “Awful polite for someone who’s clearly having a terrible Thursday night. I was just out for an evening stroll.” He could hear the sound of dogs, panting as they hurried towards them. They were a good distance away, but that was his cue to head out. He started to lift off the ground.

Apparently the other guy could hear them too, because his expression went from annoyance to panic. Before Taako could turn tail and run, he exclaimed, “Wait, help me down!”

Taako lowered back down and gave the guy another once over. He propped a hand on his hip and asked, “What’s in it for me?”

“I—” The man paused. He looked very, very crestfallen. “I don’t have much by way of giving. I’m afraid.”

Taako sighed and took a step forward. He cast a casual eye at the beam holding the guy in place. “I suppose name will do. To start us off.”

“Oh,” The man said, genuinely surprised that Taako didn’t run away just yet. “Uh, it’s Kravitz.”

Taako smirked. “Alright, _ it’s Kravitz _, I’m Taako.” 

The man rolled his eyes, but seemed to appreciate the fact that Taako was looking for a way to free him. The dogs were definitely getting closer now. The dim glow of an approaching lantern appeared over a hilltop nearby. Time was of the essence. 

Taako touched the wooden beam that currently ran through the man’s torso. Carved in it were sigils of protection, of restraint. He sighed, having seen many, many like them. With a swift wrap of his knuckles against the wood, the center of the beam folded into itself, having been instantly transmuted into brittle graphite. As soon as it broke away, Kravitz pushed himself off the broken side of the church wall and swiped whatever dust clung to him as best he could. Taako watched with minor interest, as the hole that was originally gaping in Kravitz’s chest healed itself up with incredible speed. Within a minute, it was nearly nonexistent.

That’s purebloods for you.

“Thank you,” Kravitz said, doing his best to make his damaged clothes look as inconspicuous as possible. He smiled at Taako, a warm gorgeous smile. “I am forever in your debt.”

This time Taako couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “How _ old _ are you my dude? You are seriously on some 17th century shit.”

“16th century,” Kravitz admitted. “Jacobean era”

“Fuck,” Taako replied. “You’re old as balls.”

“I won’t exactly use that euphemism but—”

Taako cut him off with a shush. They both heard the sound of a dog barking, much closer now than either realize. Taako motioned for both of them to vacate the area. As they both took off into the air, he asked. “Tell me, Kravitz...what’s your take on music?”

A small smile emerged on Kravitz’s face. “Haven’t heard what I’d call good music since 1890.”

Taako burst out laughing again, high and unrepentant. He pointed his thumb back in the direction of the nearest city. “First, you’ve been missing out on some current bangers. Second, come hang with me, homie.”

“You...want me to come with you?” Kravitz started, not seeming to get what was being asked of him. He looked so out of place. Sure he was dressed modernly (If one would call a three piece suit that was tailored in the 1940s modern.) But despite his imposing stature, and the untold power that Taako could sense rolling off of him, he seemed more reserved than given credit for. “Are you sure about that? If I’m correct, I do remember you, not a moment before calling me, ‘old as balls.’”

Taako offered up his arm and smiled. “Yeah, Rip Van Winkle, we’ll make a night of it. But a quick change first. I doubt you’ll be able to sneak around a nightclub with that hole in your shirt.”

Kravitz hooked his arm into Taako’s, then met him with the hint of a smile. “Sounds marvelous.”

* * *

Taako knew he was a head turner. He was wearing a deep blue shirt that tied into a loose bow at the collar, a loose black skirt, and a velvet blazer with silver flowers embroidered on the sleeves. His hair was in a braid, slung over one shoulder, with just enough loose strands to look carefree. 

He’d relieved the jacket from some well-to-do vagabond who was trying to entice young people into places they definitely shouldn’t go. The man’s black collared shirt (which no longer belong to the man in question), went to Kravitz, to make up for the one that had gotten messed up earlier in the evening. Kravitz fit it nicely, appreciating the silver cufflinks and pointed collar.

“We match!” Taako said, leading him up a back alley, and through the doorway of one of the many brick buildings.

“Who’s your friend?” Asked one of the two women, standing just inside the door. She was a short woman, but she looked like she could knock anyone twice her size on their back. Same for the slightly taller woman to her left. The shorter woman reached for a nearby stamp, and motioned for Taako to extend his hand.

“A real relic,” Taako said, smiling at the slight frown on Kravitz’s face. “Hurley, Sloane, this is Kravitz. He’s cool.”

“No funny business,” the one named Hurley said, eyes narrowed at the unfamiliar vampire. “Our place is a neutral zone, alright? Everyone in there is on equal standing.” Taako waved a hand.

“Like I’d bring someone who'd make a mess of the place. See you girls on the flip side.”

“Have fun, Taako,” Sloane said, before stamping Kravitz’s hand as well and waving them both inside.

Taako led Kravitz down a long, narrow passageway. The stamps on their hands shined iridescently against flickering, old lightbulbs. They could hear sound picking up as they reached the end, and Taako swung a door open wide.

The club was loud, and rowdy. It was a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. A band was up on a small platform, playing music that was just upbeat enough to garner a small crowd. Around the dance floor was no shortage of tables and worn out couches. The foundation was solid brick, and there were niches to relax in all around. People were holding private conversations, and sipping from wine glasses that may or may not contain liquids other than wine.

“I’ve been to a few neutral zones myself,” Kravitz said, as Taako found them both and unoccupied couch near the back of the club. As they walked past the crowd, people shot them quick glimpses. Those without stamps on their hands—the humans—quickly averted their eyes. But those who were marked as well let their gazes linger just a bit longer on the handsome pair. Taako soaked up the attention, Kravitz less so. “But never ones so secluded.”

“Hurley and Sloane do a good job of vetting people before letting them come in,” Taako explained. He sat down on the plush couch and patted the spot next to him. “I’ve been a regular for ten odd years. They trust my judgement.”

“Do they?” Kravitz replied, taking the seat. There was something teasing in his eyes. “I seem to recall you freeing a pureblood from a tense situation earlier this evening? I would question someone’s judgment for doing something so rash.”

“I saved your fucking life!” Taako said, loud and indignant. He leaned a little into Kravitz’s side. “I seem to recall you saying that you were _ ‘forever in my debt? _’ You can start by ordering us a drink or two.”

Kravitz’s face fell a little at that. “I left what money I had at home, I’m afraid.”

Taako rolled his eyes, but didn’t act too put out by that. He was curled up against a handsome boy in one of his favorite clubs. He could stand to do a little showboating. “The night is young, kemosabe. Where do you hang?”

Kravitz laughed a bit. “I was residing in that building that you found me impaled against.”

“You were..._ living _ there?” Taako shouted, incredulous. He knew he was being louder than really necessary, but he was having too much fun with this guy. “In a mausoleum? In a graveyard? Fucking hell Kravitz, why don’t you just have the word _ ‘vampire’ _ stamped across your forehead? I think that would be more inconspicuous.”

“Well, it was working perfectly fine until someone _ noticed _ and staked me. ” Kravitz argued. “Apparently, someone had caught wind of my habits. My...line of work required a routine, and it backfired. I was being watched for weeks and then tonight, I was attacked.”

Taako narrowed his eyes. “And by line of work, you mean?”

“I—well,” Kravitz said, and his eyes flickered about like he was trying to weigh his next statement. “I keep a records of certain vampires in an area. And, if need be, I..._ incapacitate _ those that have lost their sense of....self restraint.”

An alarm bell went off in Taako’s brain, and he could tell that Kravitz could read it in his expression, because his composure fell apart almost instantly.

“—If you’re thinking of a hunter, I’m not that. It’s a protocol put in place by the district, a century or two old. I’m one of a handful of purebloods in this region. Our...resilience makes us least likely to engage in..._ violent _ behavior. It’s a—”

“Stop,” Taako cut him off. He felt very cold, and shifted away from Kravitz on the couch. Of course there were hunters. There had always been professional hunters. But not those of his own kind. Not those who could be watching him, and studying his behavior, and tracking his movements. This was— “So you’ve been doing this...vampire census...for a fucking century? Just flagging them down and getting, what, _ money _ for it?”

“Money,” Kravitz said, nodding slowly. He was meeting Taako’s gaze, as if to try to win him over. Neither of them were enjoying the music or the scene around them at this point. “Blood, though I don’t require as much of it as say, someone freshly turned. Stationary supplies, when asked for. Like I said, I’m not a hunter.” 

“I see no fucking difference,” Taako said, and now his distrust was beginning to show. He was very close to getting up and leaving, this guy being immortal and hella sexy be damned. “How much do you know about me, about us?”

“I can’t disclose that information,” Kravitz said. He quickly followed with, “It’s a registration system. A means of keeping track of the population.”

“Culling you mean?” Taako shot back. “An easy, sneaky way for police to catch vampires unaware, stake their asses, and let them combust come first dawn. I don’t think so.” He stood up from the couch, leaving Kravitz looking more than a little distraught. “I’ll catch you on the flip side, Krav.”

He stomped away. He could sense that Kravitz hadn’t opted to chase after him. And that was at least one thing he was grateful to the dude for. He was halfway up the corridor, when he stopped and leaned against the walls. He slipped a small book out of the inner pocket of his blazer and started flipping through it. Listed in the book were small profiles. Names, approximate ages, physical descriptions. Small checkboxes that designated: _ Stable, Standby, Volatile, and Dangerous. _

Taako didn’t recognize any of the names in the book. He flipped down to the most recent pages, and still didn’t see any descriptions that pinged a memory.

“You stole that!” declared a voice, right next to his ear. Taako leaped back from Kravitz, who had _ appeared! _ Out of _ nowhere! _ Without a fucking sound. Taako dropped the book when he started. Kravitz picked it up and tucked it back into his pocket in the blink of an eye. He looked absolutely livid, his eyes flaring into a deep red. “It’s bad enough you want to pass judgements on my work, but then swipe my records—”

“I was trying to protect myself, dammit!” Taako hissed. “I needed to know what dirt you had on me. On anyone else I might have known!”

Kravitz ran an exasperated hand through his dark hair. “You’re not of the ones I’m after, Taako. I record fresh vampires, newly turned. You’re too old.”

“Um, rude,” Taako said, sticking out his tongue. “I’ll have you know, I’m less than a century. And what kind of a hunter only targets _ young _ vampires?”

“I’m not a hunter,” Kravitz repeated. “I’m a reaper. I keep tabs on those who try to start up hordes and the lot. Vampires turned within a week are the most violent. But they’re rash. They die out from sun exposure because they’re too bloodthirsty to find a decent hiding place. When there’s cropping of attacks, or ash spots in an area, there’s usually a born vampire nearby trying to start trouble. I only alert the police if that’s the case.”

“So you go after the minions and big boss, but not the middling vampires who snatch people off the streets for their own survival?” Taako asks, intrigued dampening his anger. “Where’s the logic in that?”

“The man whose clothes we’re wearing currently,” Kravitz said, gesturing at his shirt. “By some sense of cosmic vigilantism, most vampires take it upon themselves to only go after those like him. Not always. It’s admittedly an imperfect system, and many innocent people are still getting killed by those who could care less. But my job—my hope—is to find those who could care less. To restrain them, take them into police custody, and get them treated with the same rights as a human would. To maybe even get rehabilitated.”

He looked a bit sheepish as he went on, eyes flitting from Taako to the walls around them. “You hear about vampires trying to integrate into human society. But there are so many ways of going about it. Mine may not be the most _ ethical _ way, sure. But it’s one of many. And it has its merits. That i can promise.”

“Hmm,” Taako said, not looking at Kravitz directly, trying to weigh whether or not his story was buyable. Kravitz sighed, seemingly resigned to stand there until Taako made a decision. They were there for quite a few minutes. The music from the club was still playing behind them, and people were occasionally slipping past to head inside, or go to the restroom.

After what felt like forever, Kravitz asked, “How did you turn?”

Taako raised an eyebrow. “That’s a rather personal inquiry, my man.”

“I’m sorry,” Kravitz replied. He ducked his head, seeming sincere. “I don’t get much opportunity to, well, converse with fellow vampires. This is...unusual for me.”

“Got a bit of a mean streak, huh?” Taako asked, and he could feel a corner of his mouth quirk upwards. 

“My reputation tends to precede me,” Kravitz said. He leaned against the wall, not too close to Taako, but close enough to let a smile appear. His eyes had gone from harsh to soft in a manner of moments. Taako reflexively turned his head away because _ damn _, he was beautiful. Even in this shitty, hipster lighting, Kravitz cut an incredible silhouette. 

“You,” Taako said, after a beat. “A vampire vampire hunter, were trying to stake someone and got staked. And you want to pull an _ interrogation _ on me?”

“Is this what we’re doing now?” Kravitz said, motioning his hand between the two of them. He sounded amused. “Me trying to explain the worst night of my career, and you harping on it for enjoyment?”

“Fuck yeah, I am,” Taako said, utterly remorseless. His face betrayed him with a grin, as he turned to Kravitz and dared, “What are you going to do about it? Stake me?”

* * *

Taako didn’t care to remember much of the conversation after that. Other than the shadow moving across his face as Kravitz leaned in close to him. Other than the feel of Kravitz’s hand slipping behind his back, and his mouth on his, as he slowly began to kiss him.

He did remember much of that.

* * *

Taako woke up in a dark and cramped space. That’d only be a real problem if he’d been staked, but Taako distinctly remembers not being staked.

Or at least, not being staked _ in that sense. _

After a moment’s confusion, Taako pushed up, and the lid that made up the plush coffin that he was situated in gave away with an old creak. He peaked out, careful to not make any sudden movements. The room he found himself in was small, the width of the floor not being much wider than the coffin. There was a small wooden table and chair near the head of it, with a lamp resting on top. There was a bookshelf near the foot of the coffin. It was stacked with books of all shapes and levels of wear. The only other thing in the room was a heavy trunk, which was opened to reveal some neatly folded clothes.

Taako peaked over the edge of the coffin and, yeah, all his shit was strewn about haphazardly on the floor. There were no windows in the room, so he had no idea what time of day it was. 

He carefully got out, and, after a moment of rooting through the trunk, slipped on a t-shirt—the only t-shirt amongst the pile of fancy clothes. It was black, and far too big for him. It read “Vampire Money” on it, which was hilarious.

There wasn’t so much of a door in the room, as there was a steep set of stairs that led up to a trapdoor. Taako opted to grab one of the heavier books and use it to tap on the trap door. It would be a shitty way to go if someone were to sling the thing open in broad daylight and he get fried like a potato right there and then. But he couldn’t stay down there forever, Lup might worry or something.

“It’s 9:00pm,” said a voice from up above. A second later, one side of the trapdoor opened, and gentle moonlight poured in. A handsome face peeked in and smiled down at Taako. Kravitz was fully dressed, though his attire was less ornamental than it was the night prior. Taako set the book down and made his way up the stairs.

“Damn,” Taako said, peering around as soon as he breeched the surface. “Was I really asleep for sixteen hours?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” Kravitz said gently. He took a seat on an old stone bench that sat nearby. It was at this point that Taako realized they were once again in a cemetery, albeit different from the one they met at the night before. Newer, better kept. Some graves were freshly decorated with flowers. It felt more like a park than a gravesite. Taako motioned at the trap door, the outside of which was clearly designed to blend in with the surrounding, grassy turf.

“Is this your place too?” he asked.

“One of them,” Kravitz answered. There was a book in his hands, the pages of which were being flipped through absentmindedly. “There’s quite a few mausoleums I’ve redesigned into bunkers. It’s just easier this way, I suppose. I’ve had the time to do it.”

Taako took a seat beside him, careful to tuck the hem of the large shirt under his ass to avoid the coldness of the hard stone. There was a distant rumbling sound, and Kravitz glanced up at the sky.

I think it’s going to rain tonight,” He noted, like he was looking forward to that notion.

“Oh,” Taako said, grinning. “You’re one of _those_ types.”

Kravitz looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Taako pointed at the book in the vampire’s hands. “You know, the type that likes to gaze out of windows and read poetry and shit. Real old school romantic types.”

Kravitz nudged him with his elbow. “It takes one to know one.”

“Rude!” Taako snapped. He gave Kravitz a nudge back, and Kravitz laughed. His laugh was more of a hum, hidden behind a warm smile. Restrained. Taako was pretty sure he could get him to laugh out loud, if he tried. He pointed to the t-shirt he was currently wearing.

“What happened to ‘I haven’t heard good music since 1890?, huh? Explain this!”

“There were outliers,” Kravitz argued. He was smiling wide now. Much wider than he had the night before. “I tried attending concerts to a few things. But there’s not much that seems to court my fancy.”

“I definitely have to bring you to more bars,” Taako insisted, and Kravitz seemed to lean into that. Into the idea that they would continue to see other. Taako wasn’t opposed to the notion. He was still a bit weary of him. But also, Kravitz was very fun, and only sometimes an asshole, and all times easy on the eyes.

“I look forward to you trying to convince me,” Kravitz said. He nodded back at the trap door. “And you’re welcome to come by here. I don’t frequent this spot often, so it should be safer than that other one.” Taako could hear the quiet, desperate invitation in Kravitz’s voice. Those words that disguised a _ please, stay. _

And maybe that was a little sad, that this dusty, old vampire had spent the last few centuries or so staking out and being hated by his own kind. Always on the run, burning homes and risking his own existence for the dream of a better one for someone else. It was definitely a lonely life, from what Taako could make of it. And Taako knew a lot about living lonely lives.

“Hey,” Taako said, nudging Kravitz, a bit softer this time. “You mind telling me what you’re reading?”

Kavitz looked down at the book in his hands. It was small and leather bound. Worn with time, worn with being cherished. He flipped it over to the front cover and said, “It’s a lyric book. Um, I write songs in it from time to time.” He smiled a bit timidly. “I—a long time ago, I wanted to be a conductor.”

“Nerd,” Taako said, but softly. Fondly. He rested his head on Kravitz's shoulder and wrapped an arm around him. “Mind telling me more about how you got into becoming a reaper?”

“What? Interested in the position?” Kravitz joked.

“Yeah,” Taako said. He lifted his head up and pressed a small kiss on Kravitz’s jaw. “Think about it, partner in justice.”

Kravitz smiled warmly and wrapped his own arm around Taako’s shoulders. “Partner in madness, you mean?”

“Same thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep thinking "Okay, this is where it stops." But then I keep writing more >:0. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm trying to keep these as contained scenes that are easy to write and don't stretch me too thin for plot reasons. There /may be/ another chapter in the works, so stay tuned I guess. yeet.


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